


Nothing

by TalesOfOnyxBats



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfOnyxBats/pseuds/TalesOfOnyxBats
Summary: Azula feels as though it is impossible for her to make or keep friends.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Friendship  
> Pair: N/A  
> Song: Krypteria - God I Need Someone

Friendship means nothing to her. 

No, that is not true. 

It means many things to her. 

Suffering, betrayal, and regret. Lost potential, eventual hatred, and shame. And she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want any part of it. She’d rather be alone. She’d rather be alone but the isolation is tearing her apart. 

Friendship.

It takes trust, compassion, and understanding. Three things that she doesn’t and will never have. Because she is broken. Something in her is so terribly broken beyond repair and this thing keeps her from connecting and empathizing with people. 

Sociopath. 

That’s what they call her. She is beginning to think that it is true. Why else would she struggle so terribly to talk to people. Struggle so terribly to find a friend. Struggle to muster up compassion, to think of someone other than herself.

She wishes that she were different; less cold, more approachable. She wishes that she were the likable sort. The kind of person that others wanted to comfort or, at the very least, feel sorry for. But they are as cold to her as she is to them and she doesn’t blame them. 

She wishes that she could bring herself to admit that she has all of these wishes. But she doesn’t have that kind of courage. Her bravery is apparently limited to the battlefield and politics, just like her social skills. 

Azula slumps to the floor of her room, thinking for the thousandth time that she is unsalvageable, wondering just what is wrong with her. What keeps her from understanding other people. 

She doesn’t consider that it has something to do with how few struggles she has seen. Not until she completely unravels so deeply that she isn’t sure she’ll be able to claw her way out. On most days she is numb and more unfeeling than usual. To the point where her mother’s relentless chatter no longer phases her when the woman manifests upon the surface of a mirror or in the reflection of a pond. 

She doesn’t consider that it has something to do with how little she had suffered in the past until she runs again. They make it so easy for her. They leave her so many opportunities. And finally she seizes one. She makes her way out of the institution and onto the streets. 

They aren’t kind to her. 

They leave her starved and dirty, and twice as broken as before she had fled. And this time they don’t come for her. She realizes, with horror, that they truly don’t care for her. She has fled and been captured several times already, they simply don’t give a damn so long as the only one she hurts is herself. 

Maybe that is what they had counted on. Maybe they are aware that she has two options; returning to the facility or testing her luck on the streets where no one will have anything to do with someone so obviously affiliated with the nearby institution. 

Even if they do recognize her, she doesn’t mean anything at all to anyone. 

Her title is empty. 

She is empty. 

She manages another several days, trying to prove to herself and to everyone that she can handle it. That she isn’t just some spoiled and pampered disgrace. That she can make a life for herself without her birth advantages. And in another several days, all she has proven is that she is a bigger failure than she had anticipated initially. 

The walk back to the institution is a special type of shame walk. 

She fears that they won’t take her back. 

No one will take her back.

But they do and she doesn’t plan to wander off again. 

Maybe that is exactly what they wanted. 

Granted, she has also decided that she doesn’t want to go home either. She doesn’t really have a place there anymore. She can’t function like everyone else. 

**.oOo.**

Zirin slides a bowl of bland noodles to her. She takes it quietly in her hands and stares at it. “Another hard day?” 

Azula looks up. Every day is hard, really. 

“Yeah, I think that it’s one of those days. Everyone seems kind of moody today.” Zirin shrugs. “I think that it’s like a thing, ya know. Everyone gets wild at the same time.” She wriggles her fingers at the word wild. 

Azula doesn’t feel particularly wild. She just feels sad.

But at least she is feeling something. She forces herself to take a mouthful of noodles. Zirin had taken the liberty to fetch it for her, she might as well show some appreciation. 

“Do they taste good?” Zirin asks. “And by good, I mean do they taste edible?” 

“They’re fine.” She finally says. 

“She talks!” Zirin declares loudly to her group of friends. 

Though Azula can’t really blame her entirely. Zirin has been trying to strike up conversation with her for weeks now only to be met with silence. She isn’t sure why the girl is so persistent. “Occasionally.” She finally replies to the remark. 

“I told you that today was one of the weird days.” Zirin jokes. “What made you decide to talk today?” 

She shrugs. “Because I want to know why you are so interested in me.” 

“I don’t know.” She admits. “I guess that it’s because you seem like you need someone to talk to.”

“Have you considered that there is a reason that nobody does?” 

She ponders this. “Well why wouldn’t they?” 

“Because I am a sociopath.” She replies nonchalantly. 

Suddenly everyone is quiet again. She finishes her meal and retreats back to her isolation, glad that she hadn’t tried to get close to Zirin. That would have hurt..

**.oOo.**

She doesn’t see Zirin again until she finds her arguing with someone that she can’t see. Azula’s stomach lurches. She might as well be looking at herself. The girl is angry and distraught, a strange sight considering how chipper Zirin typically is. 

Azula lingers at the end of the hallway for a moment, wondering if it is a good idea to approach her. She knows that she doesn’t like to be fussed with when she is speaking to her mother, she imagines that Zirin wouldn’t care for it either. Especially if she were to take her by surprise. 

She waits until Zirin begins to calm to make her approach. The girl looks up, her eyes seem to pass right through her. For some reason this sinks Azula’s stomach. Her eyes look so far away and Azula’s belly flutters nervously.

But that isn’t quite right…

She isn’t particularly nervous. But the feeling isn’t pleasant. 

For once it isn’t she who is chasing and speaking with phantoms. For once it isn’t she who is breaking. And yet she feels as though she might as well be. 

“Zirin.” She greets, not entirely sure how to begin this conversation, not sure if she should. She has never gone out of her way to initiate conversation before. This is something of an impulse and she is already regretting it. 

Zirin looks up before she has a chance to fully second guess and make her exit. “Azula?”

When Azula doesn’t reply any further she continues, “how much of that did you hear?”

Azula shrugs, “just the end, but I couldn’t tell what you were saying.” 

Zirin rubs the back of her head. “That’s probably a good thing.” She adds an uncomfortable laugh. “Yeah, so, you caught me, I’m one of those types”

“Those types?” 

“The ones who hear things.” She mutters.

She knows that this is a good time to mention that she is hear for the same reason, but she can’t seem to bring herself to do so. So she simply stares straight ahead, feeling terribly awkward. 

“You think that it’s weird, don’t you? Everyone else does.” 

Azula swallows. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“Because you’re a sociopath?” 

It comes like a slap to the face and she feels as though her emotions may bubble over and leave her in tears again. The only thing that holds her together is the knowledge that she is the one who had mentioned it to Zirin. 

“I’m here because I see things…” she trails off.  _ Among other things, _ she adds to herself. 

Zirin smiles. “It’s good to know that I’ll have someone who will understand.”

Azula tries to smile back, but it doesn’t quite work. It never quite works. It aids in her inability to connect. Her face falls again, “Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t empathize…” 

Zirin tilts her head, “but you stopped here to talk to me?”

“Yes.” Azula confirms. 

“Why?” 

“Because…” she trials off trying to piece together her own reasoning. “I guess that it’s...because I’m always alone when it happens to me.” 

“So you decided to talk to me because you know how it feels?” 

“Something like that.” Azula replies quietly. That sounded about right.

“In other words, you are being empathetic?”

Azula takes a deep breath. “This might be the first time.”

Zirin snickers, some of that mischievous perkiness begins to show through again, “gee, I must be really special!”

**.oOo.**

Special doesn’t quite cover it. Zirin has come to mean quite a lot to Azula. Despite any protests, she seats herself by Azula at mealtimes and her friends usually come too. And for the first time, she doesn’t feel so isolated.

Sometimes they don’t talk. Sometimes they don’t even look at each other, but it is nice to have them there. To know that they are around.

It is like having TyLee around again. But there is something different. Something...genuine. Zirin doesn’t linger around because Azula has made sure to carefully wrap her around her finger. In fact, Azula doesn’t do anything at all to try to make her come back. To force her to talk to her. 

It is a rare day, one where Zirin comes to visit her dorm alone.

It is a day as good as any to finally ask her why. Why she sticks around when Azula can offer her nothing useful at all. 

Zirin fixes her with that big, goofy grin, “because I like you.”

“Why?” She pushes. “I need to know  _ why _ .” They have nothing at all in common save for the thing that has landed them there. 

Zirin seems to grow serious. “I just do. You don’t really talk much, but when you do it’s always fascinating. It’s also really nice to have someone to talk to about the hallucinations. You’re one of the only people who  _ doesn’t  _ look at me differently or like I’m dangerous.” She pauses. “Your my friend.” 

“Friend…” Azula trails off. “I don’t think that I’ve ever had…”

Zirin takes her hand. “Well then I’m glad to be your first. I know that you’re going to make more of them, but until then, you have me and my girls?” 

Azula doesn’t squeeze hands back but she doesn’t jerk hers away either. “Thank you.” She whispers. “I...I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

Zirin beams brightly at her, “you won’t be, I promise.” 


End file.
